


Fic: The Moon Goes Down Quiet

by dedougal



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-03
Updated: 2010-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt was Jared's a gun-slinging playboy sorcerer with a mysterious suitcase handcuffed to his arm. Jensen's a cigar-chomping kleptomaniac archaeologist who can talk to animals. The story is a romp. Basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fic: The Moon Goes Down Quiet

Sometimes, Jared liked to pretend he’s Batman. Or Bruce Wayne. Whatever. Bruce Wayne was the one who was a billionaire playboy who would attend things like this museum opening. He was here mainly because his dad had insisted. Jared should attend more things than club openings and rock concerts. The Padalecki Group shareholders wanted to see the man who might inherit the company as more than a good-time guy. Jared had been amused at the idea. He wondered how they’d feel if they truly knew what he was like.

The museum opening didn’t feel like the opening of an exhibit though. There had been a few speeches – the director of the museum, his dad on behalf of the sponsors, the head of the dig – and then the string quartet in the corner had started up and the waiters carrying trays of champagne began circulating. It turned into every society event that Jared had attended as an adult. When he was a kid, there was less champagne and the chance to hide under the tables.

At these things, he wears a tuxedo, cufflinks polished and shoes shined. He slicks his unkempt hair back behind his ears and sometimes, just sometimes, he wears a white silk scarf. Seeing as he’s normally the tallest man in the room with muscles that have muscles and surrounded by the most beautiful women in the place, he attracts plenty of attention. And then he tends to channel Bruce Wayne. Because Bruce Wayne is smooth and charming, two things Jared Padalecki from San Antonio certainly isn’t. He’s also one more thing that Jared is pretty sure he isn’t and that’s straight.

Well, there’s the whole Robin thing…

Jared realises when he has to lean down to ask the pretty blonde to repeat what she said, flashing his dimples at her, that he better pay attention to what is going on and stop getting lost in his own head. He’s here for a reason.

There are some nights where Jared sleeps just fine. There are some nights where he manages a solid eight hours and wakes up refreshed and ready for his morning run. Those days are few and far between. Apparently being a sorcerer means that every supernatural creature in the vicinity feels free to drop in for a chat. And since they can’t fully inhabit the waking world without a hell of a lot of effort, a specific summoning or some pretty disastrous events with a high bodycount, Jared’s sleep time seems to be the most convenient time for them to do it. Which sucks balls.

He’s starting to consider some of them as good friends. That probably says more about his lack of a social life than anything else in his sad pathetic existence. Misha wasn’t too bad for a ghost. Or post-human as he preferred to be termed. Normally he just asked Jared about sports scores or politics. Sometimes he asked him to check that his wife (Ex-wife? Former wife? Corporeal wife?) was happy. Jared was pretty glad to oblige. Misha normally brought beer into the dreams.

Last night had been different. Misha had been different. His clothing had changed, he seemed less solidly human. More explicitly ghostly.

“Something bad is going down, Padalecki.” Then he’d flickered in and out of existence for a moment. Jared had never seen Misha do that before. Ghosts did it in the real world all the time, but not in the safety of his unconscious mind. “Something new is in town. It’s trying to do something.”

“Could you be any more vague, dude,” Jared had asked, a little disconcerted.

“I can’t quite see it. Properly. There’s… It hurts to look too directly.” Misha’s edges had blurred. Jared had rubbed his eyes to try and bring him back into focus. It didn’t work. Then suddenly Misha was back and as solid as he ever achieved. He had grinned, blue eyes seemingly seeing into the back of Jared’s skull. “I think you want to visit the museum.”

  
The reception started at eight sharp, Jared arriving at quarter past. The invite to the opening of the new exhibit had been sent to his father. Jared knew about the reception because of his mother’s muttering about getting jewels from the safe. He reckoned that the museum wouldn’t turn him away. He was (apparently) always good for publicity. He was right.

His father frowned, his mother straightened the white silk scarf and a crowd of girls in dresses held up with string and glue crowded close. That he hadn’t counted on. There was no way he’d be able to spend the time he needed to looking around. He had to be on stage. He had to be Bruce Wayne. Fuck.

Jared straightened to lift his champagne flute to his lips. He used the action to disguise his sudden glance around the room, as he searched for an excuse, a way out of the mass of satin and hairspray he was currently trapped in. Of course, that was when another complication landed in his lap. So to speak.

There was a man talking to his father. From when Jared’s eyes snagged on bow legs and then slid up past an ass perfectly complimented by dress slacks to a narrow waist and broad shoulders. A shiver ran up his spine and it took him a minute to realise that it was not fear but arousal. Then the man turned around and Jared knew that the feeling racing through his veins couldn’t be anything but lust. The man was laughing at something his father had said. He had ducked his head and Jared could see the longest eyelashes he’d ever seen on man fan over freckled cheeks. Jared barely had time to notice the thin unlit black cigar help between the man’s plump, kissable lips before he raised his head and looked directly at Jared.

The man’s green eyes were as piercing in their own way as Misha’s crystal blue ones.

“My dad needs me,” Jared lied to a chorus of exaggerated groans. “I’ll be back when they start serving the hard stuff.” He withdrew from the group and crossed the floor in a few long strides.

His dad was surprised to see him voluntarily join him. They didn’t tend to talk much at these events. “Jared!” Then he seemed to recall his manners. “Mr Bonham, this is my son, Jared.”

The man – Bonham – seemed vaguely amused. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Padalecki.”

Jared was unaccountably flustered. “No. That’s my father. Or I guess, he’s Dad. I’m Jared.” Yeah, Bruce Wayne had left the building.

The man raised an eyebrow – a move that made him look so smooth. Jared almost sighed. “Well, then, I guess I’d better be John.” They shook hands and Jared was aware he was holding on a little too long.

“Enjoying the exhibition?” Jared jumped at the question from his dad.

“I haven’t had much time to see it,” Jared answered honestly rather than wisely. His dad’s face fell for a minute. “I want to. Mr Bonham – John, I mean – have you seen it all?”

“Not at all, Jared.” Again the current of hidden amusement. Jared realised that his instincts weren’t just trying to get him to drag John into the nearest closet and fall to his knees. They were sending up some fairly strong warning signals too. He instantly agreed when the man proposed that they head into the next room to look at the artefacts.

“Are you new in town?” Jared tried to keep his voice light as they strolled past some sculptures and clay pots.

John pulled the small cigar out of his mouth and held it between his fingers as if he was actually smoking it. “I’m actually part of the team that put all this together. I’m an archaeologist.” John bent down to read the label on an item Jared had dismissed as a lump of misshapen metal. It afforded Jared a perfect view of his ass. “What about you?” Jared was caught out when John turned his head to look at him appraisingly.

“We moved to Dallas from San Antonio about five years back. Just after I graduated college.” Jared turned his head in front of an artist’s rendition of what the site was supposed to look like.

“What did you graduate in?” John’s voice sounded like it was coming from right behind him. Jared felt that spike of interest and distrust again.

“Nothing exciting. Engineering. Not that Dad’ll let me do anything with it.” Jared felt the frustrations of that old argument rise up and he stamped it down. It wouldn’t be acceptable to let his emotions take over here. His parents wouldn’t like it. It was bad enough that he was having such a strong reaction to the man watching him with more interest than he’d shown a single one of the exhibits. Batman. He had to be Batman now.

John shrugged and made his way over to look at the piece that was on all the advertising material. It looked smaller in real life, no longer than Jared’s middle finger. It was a tiny box, elaborately decorated with gold and gemstones, shining under a spotlight. As Jared came nearer he realised that there was something not quite right about the box. He stumbled then John was beside him with a hand under his arm.

“You alright, man?” John’s voice was all concern. Jared could feel the warmth of John’s hand seeping through his tuxedo sleeve. He drew strength from it.

“I’m fine. Too much champagne,” Jared claimed weakly. He leaned into John a little and John drew him back towards the main reception room. “Maybe just need a seat.”

Jared felt the oily smear of the wrongness surrounding the box recede from his awareness as he moved out from its influence. He had a piece of the puzzle now. Something was trapped in that box and all that pretty gaudy decoration was nothing more than a keep off warning. Jared knew he needed to find out more about it. “So. The box. Did you guys open it?”

John regarded him strangely. “Yup. It was supposed to be some religious artefact. Carried into battle to ensure victory. Bit more portable than the Ark of the Covenant.”

“What? Like in Indiana Jones?” Jared was trying to think carefully. Carried into battle. All that blood and death and pain. That would suit whatever was in the box right down to the ground. So why hadn’t it fled when the archaeologists had opened the box. Unless there was more to it than that.

“Yeah. C’mon, that’s why most of us go into the field in the first place. I wanted to be Harrison Ford when I was a boy.” John’s voice was mostly cheerful, with a certain wistfulness for the innocence of youth.

“I can see that: the hat, the whip, the girls.” Jared grinned up at him.

John coughed to disguise a dry laugh. “The hat and whip sure. The girls – let’s just say that my seven year old self and my current self share a fairly strong disinterest in girls.”

Jared had to use all his self-control not to smile smugly. If there wasn’t the issue of Misha acting weird or the mysterious malevolent box, he’d so be up for carrying on with his earlier blow job in the closet plan. He just nodded at John to show he understood.

And clamped down on the image of John in nothing but a hat and boxers, carrying a bull whip. Jared had never been one for pain during sex, but there was something about that tantalising image that was quite tempting.

That, of course, was when all the lights went out.

There was something unnatural in the darkness. It was solid, unmoving. There was no reflected glare from the streetlights or the light pollution that hung over the city. There was no moonlight, no relief in the unending blackness. Jared brought his hands up in front of his face and waved them. There was nothing actually preventing him moving but it was as if someone had turned his eyes off. One flailing hand caught John’s hip and Jared automatically wrapped his fingers around that piece of hard flesh. He could feel the seat under him and hear the shrieks of the other party goers. A voice he didn’t recognise was calling out ever more desperate demands to understand what was going on.

The hand he had on John’s hip was covered by warm hand, soft for someone who must have spent most of the last year scrabbling around in dirt. Jared drew strength from that hand. He needed to try something. Under the cover of the panicked noise around him, he whispered a simple sight spell. It didn’t quite work as he expected.

He could see, alright, it was just that it was like watching through an infrared scanner. The blob of red and orange next to him must be John. The partygoers blurred into a fairly amorphous blob across the other side of the room. Turning his head, he looked back towards the room they’d come out of. Jared wished he hadn’t.

Flanking the box were two huge purple shapes. Luckily Jared’s sight wasn’t sharp enough to make out specific features. He had a vague impression of horns and lumps and too many limbs. His stomach rebelled. He clamped a hand to his mouth as he watched one of the shapes reach out and snatch the box with a clawed hand that seemed to have three sets of fingers. The shapes vanished and suddenly the room returned to normal. The light burned at Jared’s eyes and he blinked away the last of the spell.

Shit. Had he really seen what he thought he’d seen? He let his hand drop from John’s side and stumbled to his feet, making his way on trembling legs to the open archway. Sure enough, the spotlight now shone on an empty pedestal. John came up to stand beside him.

“What the…?” His voice trailed off as he took in the vacant display case. “The box?”

Jared felt his legs crumble underneath him. He clutched at John as he sank to the floor and his fall was not as sudden as it could have been. “Could you get my mom?” Jared heard himself ask as his eyes rolled up in his head and a different darkness overtook him.

  
So that was pretty humiliating. Jared came to sprawled over one of the cushioned benches in the middle of the floor. His jacket had been taken off and rolled as a pillow to support his neck. His mother was perched birdlike on the side of the bench taking his pulse. He could see his father hovering and John (amazing how quickly he’d taken to mentally calling him John) watching him and the crowd at once.

“I’m fine,” Jared grumbled. He didn’t try to stand up. “Guess I must have had too much champagne. Good party.”

Most of the crowd drifted away at that, eager to gossip about the latest dissolute act Gerald Padalecki’s son had committed. His mother ran her fingertips over his forehead. She frowned slightly. His dad came over to stand at his shoulder.

“Was it something-“ He wiggled his fingers. Jared and his mom both nodded. His dad sighed heavily. It was only then that Jared became aware of John watching them closely.

“The box?” John came forward, his eyes strangely intent. “What do you know about the box?”

John was met by fiercely blank stares from every member of the Padalecki family. Jared broke the stalemate by rubbing his hand over his face. “Look. I’ve got to get home.”

“Not alone,” his mother replied, her eyes softening with concern. Jared had the sudden flash of asking John to come home with him. He wriggled upright.

“Yes. I need to do some checking at home.” Jared thought about the night’s events as he solidly placed his feet on the floor. “Since you’re so interested.” He addressed John. “Can you bring over any photographs or recordings you’ve got about the box to mine in the morning? We could talk more then.”

John looked like he was about to protest. Instead he nodded then bent to offer his shoulder to Jared to help him to his feet. Jared felt more clear-headed now. He nodded to his mother and father and took a few steps towards the exit but was astonished to find John keeping pace with him.

“What?” Jared’s store of politeness had pretty much run out.

“I’ll drive you home. Need to know where you live for the morning.” John left no space for argument and Jared decided that he was too tired for any protests.

He headed for the elevators leading to the parking lot on the roof of the museum, John following close behind, digging in his pocket for his car keys.

  
The ride home was silent. Jared could tell that John was trying to start conversation. He would bite his bottom lip nervously, drum his fingertips on the wheel or open his mouth only to shut it without saying anything. Jared gave him directions in a soft voice and he followed every one precisely.

Jared got out without ceremony. “Thanks for the ride. See you in the morning. About 10?” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead heading for his building. He was brought up short by John calling out his name. Jared turned to see John leaning across the passenger seat.

John looked at him intently. “My name isn’t John Bonham. Thought you should know.”

Jared wasn’t quite sure how to answer this. “What?” Yeah, one of his more articulate moments.

“My name isn’t John Bonham,” the man repeated. “It’s Jensen Ackles.”

Then he pulled the door shut, started the car and left, leaving Jared standing in open-mouthed shock.

  
So Jared had a new problem. He’d heard of Jensen Ackles. Who hadn’t? Ackles was this almost mythological figure – he’d been responsible for the biggest archaeological discoveries since Schliemann found Troy. He’d found the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. He’d proved the existence of Atlantis. He’d been a celebrity – cover of Time, darling of a thousand chat shows. Jared had been at college when he’d disappeared. Most of what he remembered about Ackles centred on a shy man in tweed and a pair of glasses, the quintessential professor.

He wasn’t imagining Jensen – John – Ackles – whatever – in tweed and glasses now. Deep in sleep, he had Jensen stripped naked, pinning him to the bed and using those sinfully lush lips to lick up Jared’s erect and oh, so interested cock. Jared had one hand fisted in the sheets and the other cupped around the back of Jensen’s neck, not that Jensen in his dreams had any intention of stopping. Jared met sparkling green eyes as Jensen lifted up and swallowed the head of his cock, fingers stroking down over his balls and then lower. Jared knew from experience he was writhing on his sheets in his own bed and widening his legs. He knew he’d fall out of bed in the morning because the sheets would be knotted around him when he woke up.

He wondered if the same thing would happen if Jensen were to do this in real life. Then he stopped thinking and started enjoying. Jensen’s clever fingers were almost finished their task and it would be time for the main event.

Jared was glad that Jensen kissed him, thoroughly and with care as he slid home. It said something about the kind of guy that Jensen was. Jared cursed his dream logic again, unable to fully appreciate the way Jensen’s tongue flicked in his mouth and the way the pressure of pain turned to pleasure.

Misha coughed softly.

Jensen faded and Jared was left lying in his imaginary bedroom, splayed out and naked. Misha stood at the head of the bed beside Aldis. Jared imagined daggers stabbing through their chests.

Misha looked down as the elaborate knife passed right through him. “I’m hurt.”

“You’re dead.” Jared hauled the sheets up around his chest and settled back against the pillows. “I was really enjoying that.”

“We know,” said Aldis. Jared wasn’t quite sure what Aldis was. He wasn’t a ghost like Misha and Jared felt it would be rude to ask. He’d done some research and had suspicions, but nothing concrete. Also, why the hell were they together? Aldis glowed for a minute – he fucking glowed – then smiled widely, mouth full of too many teeth all of a sudden.

Jared wrapped the sheets tighter around him. “What’s up?”

Misha and Aldis looked at each other, saying without words that they wanted the other to speak first. Misha raised a fist and they quickly rock-paper-scissored. Scissors cut paper. Misha had to speak.

“There’s this box,” he began.

“I know.”

Misha looked annoyed at the interruption. “And in the box is contained an ancient evil entity.” Jared bit back his “no shit, Sherlock” and let Misha continue. “To be set free, there is a very specific rite and a sacrifice. A blood sacrifice.” Misha was quite comical when he was being all serious, one hand on his hip and the other wagging at Jared. But Jared knew he’d better pay attention. He resculpted his dream so he was dressed and sitting rather than lying naked and sweaty in bed.

Aldis raised his eyebrows at the sudden change then took up the tale. “We can’t tell you its name. There are rules, you know. Plus it might hear us. But whoever is behind this is manifesting some of us in the mortal world to help him, which takes an enormous amount of power.”

“Or blood,” Jared clarified. He knew the rules.

“Probably both.” A chill ran up Jared’s spine at Aldis’ words. “The first thing to do is make sure the box doesn’t fall into their hands.” At Jared’s slow headshake, Aldis became angry. “They’ve already got it! Man.” He turned his back and wandered away, muttering.

Misha rubbed his hand over his face. “Okay. Plan B.” He waved his hand. A silver briefcase appeared on the ground in front of Jared. “There are a few weapons that we reckon will help you. But they can’t be used until the right time.”

Aldis wandered back. “So you’ve got to keep them with you at all times.”

They both looked at Jared calculatingly and then turned to each other. “But it’s Jared,” Misha said.

“Hey,” Jared started to protest but his mind was being drawn back towards the waking world. He was muttering mutinously as he woke up before he became aware of two things: a frustrated knocking on his door and a heavy weight in the bed beside him. Jared stood up and realised that he was attached to the heavy weight. His left wrist was encircled by what could only be described as a handcuff bracelet. Attached to it was a chain that was fastened to another handcuff clipped around the handle of a heavy silver briefcase.

Jared swore as he picked it up and stumbled to the door. He flung it open to surprise Jensen who had his hand raised to knock again.

“Sorry, sleeping,” Jared apologised, hiding his left hand and its contents behind the door. He saw Jensen drag his eyes over his naked chest and down to his boxers. Jared was uncomfortably reminded of the first half of last night’s dream. A flush spread over Jensen’s cheeks as he resolutely brought his eyes back to Jared’s face.

“You know. I don’t have any… coffee in the place. Could you run to the coffee shop at the end of the block and pick me up some caffeine?” Jared knew this was a lie. He had a very nice Colombian blend in the freezer and more coffee gear than he could shake a stick at. He just needed time to try and get the stupid suitcase off his arm before he needed to explain it to Jensen.

His wallet was in his jeans pocket, which was back in the bedroom. Which meant he’d need to cross the hallway to get it and Jensen would see his predicament.

Jensen laughed. “Sure. Black?”

“God no,” slipped out before Jared could censor it. “Caramel syrup, full milk and whipped cream and sprinkles.” Jared smiled pathetically.

Jensen looked at him strangely before nodding slowly. “Sugar? Or, well, more sugar?”

“I’ve got it here. Just the coffee. And I’ll get dressed.” Jared was already closing the door.

He swore he heard Jensen mutter “Don’t hurry on my behalf” as he walked back to the elevator.

  
Jared had made no progress by the time there was a second knock on the door. He’d tried picking the lock but the metal skewer he’d used had snapped. Then he’d gone for an old hacksaw he remembered his brother leaving behind on a previous DIY expedition. The hacksaw made no dents in the chain, and made such a horrid screeching noise that Jared had given up quickly on it too. He was wondering if an axe would work when Jensen arrived back at the door.

Jared opened the door sheepishly. Jensen slipped past him into the hallway balancing two cups, a bag of what Jared hoped were pastries and a manila file. Jared hadn’t eaten much at the reception and his stomach growled. “Your sugar fix,” Jensen started to say, then noticed Jared’s predicament. “What the fuck?”

  
They were seated in the living room at either end of the sofa. Jared had shrugged into jeans but couldn’t work out how to get a shirt on. Jensen kept staring, eyes flickering between Jared and the suitcase. He looked a little dazed.

“So it came out of your dreams?” Jensen repeated. He sounded a little stunned. “And it has something to do with the box?”

“Yup,” Jared replied pathetically.

“And there’s something in the box.” Jensen continued.

“Sort of.”

“Which we didn’t find when we opened it. But will escape when the person who stole it completes a magic ritual and kills a whole bunch of people.” Jensen’s eyes flicked back to Jared and up over his chest.

“Pretty much.”

Jensen’s mouth twisted into an odd grin. “And where do you find time to work out when you’re not being Jared Padalecki, playboy or dreaming up strange suitcases?”

“Huh?” Jared became aware that Jensen was looking at his chest again. He blushed. “I like to exercise.”

“Is it really sleazy if I say that I like that you exercise?” Jensen’s grin untwisted and became more genuine. “Can I smoke?”

“On the balcony.” Jared was still trying to process Jensen’s last question and he gestured vaguely in the direction of the window leading out onto the tiny balcony. Jensen stood up and headed out. Jared watched as he leaned on the ledge, one of those thin cigars handing between his lips and lit it with a silver lighter. The lighter flashed in the sunlight as Jensen tucked it carefully back into his pocket.

  
Jensen seemed much calmer when he came back in. He’d taken the whole magic exists thing rather well. Better than Jared’s own dad had, to be honest. “So you’re really okay with this?”

“Hmmm?” Jensen was rather involved in raking through Jared’s fridge. He’d made noises about breakfast and Jared had come to the conclusion that he couldn’t really walk out of the apartment half naked with a briefcase attached to his arm. He’d waved Jensen towards the fridge and worked around the briefcase to get his coffee maker working.

“With the magic thing.” Jared clarified. It really was difficult to grind the beans properly with his left arm somewhat constrained. He was proud of himself for managing to not spill too much of the resulting grains.

Jensen stood upright, carrying a block of cheese in one hand and some butter in the other. “Not so much. I mean, what kind of magician can’t magic himself into a shirt.”

Jared blushed. He hadn’t really thought about that.

Jensen smirked again. “But I could tell there was something weird about that box. Got any bread?”

Pointing the bread bin, Jared headed back to his bedroom to find a shirt he wasn’t too fond off. An old t-shirt should do fine. He ran a finger over the side seam to open it up, struggled into the shirt and then ordered the shirt to mend itself. The t-shirt ended up a little on the snug side, but he found himself not caring. Time to face Jensen again.

Jensen was singing under his breath as he fried up some grilled cheese. Jared stopped to watch him for a minute. All his worries about the box, his new arm attachment, potential blood sacrifices and the end of the world as everyone knew it seemed to fade slightly. A flash from his dream pre-interruption passed across his mind as Jensen reached up to pull plates from the top shelf and revealed a flash of skin along his waistband. It seemed ridiculous that Jared should be reacting to the tiniest flash of skin when he’d been putting on a show all morning, but there was something to be said for the pure urge to run his fingertips along the smooth flesh.

“You just about done staring? That coffee ready?” Jensen’s voice was amused as he turned to wave a sandwich at Jared. Jared nodded and went to grab a couple of mugs. They ended up back on the sofa, the manila file now taking an urgent priority. Jared was unwilling to touch it.

“Why don’t you tell me about the dig?” Jared took a bite of the sandwich and groaned in appreciation.

Jensen wriggled on the sofa to make himself more comfortable. “We weren’t expecting much. My colleagues don’t know I’m me, except for my boss. They’d feel like I was out treasure hunting but I just wanted to get back to what I enjoyed doing. Research, small scale digs. The project looked decent – a fairly remote part of Eastern Turkey…”

***

It was good being back. Jensen knew his discoveries would make front page news, but he hadn’t counted on quite the media storm that had followed. It had left him rich, he supposed, but also a threat to any serious archaeology. After all, archaeology was more science than anything else.

He’d been following Doctor McKenna’s research in the journals and managed to get Jeff to assign him to the team Gill was putting together. He’d come with a false name and a false paper trail and enough money to extend the dig by a month. Gill had not been entirely happy to see Jensen show up but knew better than to open her mouth and out him. Funding was precious and she knew Jensen could do the work.

They were supposed to be excavating a site thought to be a small village. It wasn’t small. And it wasn’t a village.

It was also easy to understand why the site had lain undisturbed for so long. At night, cold winds brought ice and snow to their tents. During the day, the sun beat down relentlessly on the dry grey soil. There seemed to be no happy medium. The locals were unwilling to come and deliver supplies, muttering something in their patois about curses. Gill had come across references to disease in her reading but half-buried fairy tales were going to be no substitute for some digging, measuring and maybe some carbon dating if they found enough material.

Jensen had been expanding a test pit from the last dig when he’d found the first body. A woman, pregnant, high status from her jewellery and teeth. Three and half to four thousand years old. Body buried beneath a threshold. Their theories had shifted from village to estate. Gill found the next body. A boy. Ribs splayed apart. Pre or post-mortem? Same age. Estate to religious site was the decision. Then the finds started coming thick and fast. Preserved pots, three middens. A suspected forge and more bodies there. Finally an altar, made from mud and straw, fragments of paint clinging determinedly to the sculpted sides. And the box nestled in its base, a final corpse with strings of hair still clinging to the skull, preserved in the cold, dry soil in front of it. Axehead was found in the chest cavity.

The museum display was to repay the sponsors. They’d kept the gory details hidden behind obfuscation and repeated use of the word ritual.

***

Jensen’s voice was shaking when he finished his tale. Jared had shifted closer, coffee long cold in the mug on the table. Instead he laid his hand on Jensen’s thigh, enough to feel the trembling in his body. Something had affected him.

“Anything else?” Jared asked softly, starting to stroke his fingertips over Jensen’s knee.

Jensen brought his hand up to his neck then fumbled at the chain around his neck. When it finally lay on top of his t-shirt, Jared could see some kind of ring attached to the end of the chain. He leaned closer.

The ring definitely wanted him to touch it. To adore it. To wear it until the end of his lifetime. Not a happy kind of lifetime either.

“I may have a little problem,” Jensen admitted. “I like souvenirs. I’ve kept something from every site I’ve ever dug. And other places too.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and dropped a bracelet on the table. “You could return that to your mother for me.”

Jared nodded, a little dazed.

“The ring was in the niche with the box. I liked it. It didn’t look too old or antique. I knew no one else had seen it.” Jensen shrugged. “So I stole it. Everyone needs a hobby.”

Jared had to breathe deeply to stop his laughter. Then he couldn’t contain it any longer. He broke out into hearty guffaws that soon had Jensen joining him. When he ran out of breath and couldn’t see because of the tears running down his face, Jared finally stopped. “It’s just so unexpected. Jensen Ackles: archaeologist extraordinaire and kleptomaniac.” Jared lost himself to another wave of what he had to admit were giggles.

Jensen snorted at that. “Any worse than Jared Padalecki: billionaire playboy sorcerer?”

  
Jared used tongs from the kitchen to lift the ring off Jensen’s neck. He dropped it into a small silver lined box he kept on his mantelpiece. He could feel it resisting as he pushed the lid down but immediately felt better as the ring was hidden away.

He looked back to Jensen and noticed how green his eyes were all of a sudden, like there had been a film over them before. “Do you feel better?”

“Yeah,” Jensen said, slowly shaking his head. “I really want to take a shower.”

That was another one of those good thoughts. Jared took a moment to enjoy it then brought himself back to reality with a shake. “That’d be the miasma.”

“Foul air?” Jensen looked around as if he expected to see a cloud of hovering smoke or something.

“It’s after-image. Or aura. Or something. I don’t normally use all the new age-y terms. Makes me feel a bit of a toss-pot.” Jared muttered. “I can get it off you.”

“That’d be good.” Jensen was rubbing at his chest now. “I feel really dirty.”

Jared realised that Jensen was probably reacting to the loss of the ring too. A kind of a sting in the tail for anyone who tried to get rid of it. There were a number of ways to cleanse him. But the quickest…

“We’re going to need to be in the bedroom for this.” Jared got to his feet.

Jensen didn’t move. “Without dinner? I don’t know if I put out on the first date.”

Jared raised his left arm. “And what kind of putting out will I be doing with a suitcase chained to my arm?”

“Fair enough.”

  
Jared had Jensen lie on the bed first. Then he made Jensen take off his shoes so he didn’t make a mess of the sheets Jared hastily straightened. Jared looked down at Jensen who looked entirely too comfortable on the bed. “Take off your shirt.”

Jensen didn’t resist, but drew up the shirt tantalisingly slowly. Jared missed the end of the show when he had to nip through to his study to pick up his silver letter opener. Jensen was slightly more uncomfortable when Jared came back. He was scratching at his chest, leaving angry red marks on the lightly freckled skin. Jared bit his tongue inside his mouth as he brought his hand down to still the movement. His fingertips brushed one of Jensen’s nipples and he was aware of it hardening under his touch. Nice.

Jared brought his mind back to the task at hand. “You need to leave your arms at your side. Or you could hold onto the headboard or something.” He hadn’t really thought about what he was asking until Jensen lifted his arms up beside his head and clutched onto the wooden slats. The muscles in his chest and arms stood out in sharp definition and Jared had to talk sternly to his dick to stop it making a noticeable bulge in his jeans.

In the end, he ended up straddling Jensen. He needed to lean over his chest and it seemed like the easiest way to balance especially since he couldn’t use his left hand properly. Jared knew better than to rest his weight on Jensen’s groin, but his thighs were bad enough. He could feel their strong muscles through two layers of denim. “So this is pretty much the definition of a compromising situation, right?”

Jensen nodded. “Still feeling kinda dirty though. And not in a good way.”

Jared picked up the blade from beside his knee. “I’m going to use this to scrape away the feeling. Like, not literally, but silver is a good purification tool and the action of the knife mimics the path of the power.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Not just an excuse to lay me out on the bed and indulge your knife kink then?”

“I don’t have a knife kink. At least, I don’t think I have a knife kink.” Jared muttered back. He was already starting to take the deep breaths he needed to properly concentrate. He leaned forward, focused, and drew the blade of the letter opener over Jensen’s chest. Jensen wriggled – he could obviously feel something – and Jared breathed out over the blade. To his eyes, it had lost some of its bright polish. It shone again as he repeated the action.

Jensen was silent, breaths coming deeper and deeper as Jared drew the blade over his skin in neat stripes. He worked methodically, breathing over the blade at the end of each stroke. Jensen’s movements became almost rhythmical and his nipples hardened into rosy nubs when Jared breathed out over them. Jared could feel that he was nearly done. He was determined to catch every bit of the ring’s influence.

As he looked up at Jensen’s face, he noted that Jensen’s eyes were half-shut and his bottom lip was caught tight in his teeth. Jared brought his fingertips up to sooth the hurt, ignoring the clank of the chain. Instead, Jensen raised his head and swallowed Jared’s fingertips between his plush lips. Jared laid the knife to one side and leaned over. Jensen’s hands were still wrapped white knuckled around the slats of his headboard.

“Are you okay? Feel better?” Jared kept his voice low. A flush was spreading from Jensen’s cheeks down over his neck and over his collarbones. Jensen nodded as Jared trailed his moistened fingertips down his neck , following the path of the blush. “Is this okay?”

Jensen opened his eyes fully and looked Jared directly in the eyes. Jared was struck by how deep and clear the green was. He was caught by that for a long moment before Jensen brought one of his hands down to the back of Jared’s head and pulled him forward. Jared tumbled on top of Jensen, catching most of his weight on one elbow before he crushed him completely.

“Kiss me, you fool.” Jensen’s voice was a gravel rough rasp. His fingers tightened on Jared’s neck as he angled his head to press his lips against Jared’s. Jared could feel Jensen pressed all along his body: the hard points of his nipples through his worn thin t-shirt, the urgent undulations of hips and the strong hard length of his cock. Jared mirrored his movements for a moment before sliding his free hand down Jensen’s side to the waistband of his jeans.

“Can I?” Jensen moaned, deep in his throat. Jared recaptured his lips, pulling Jensen’s bottom lip between his own for a minute before lifting up to give himself room to unbutton Jensen’s jeans. Jensen let his other hand come off the headboard then, working it into the tight space to fiddle with Jared’s zipper. Jared gasped in relief when his fly was finally open, a noise swallowed by Jensen’s insatiable mouth. He pushed his jeans down far enough to free his impatient cock and followed suit with Jensen’s. His hand was rough and dry as he encircled both their erections. Jensen nearly pushed him off with the force of his first thrust. “Like that?”

Jensen’s hand came down hard enough to ensure there would be a red handprint later on Jared’s ass. He held on tight, forcing Jared’s body close and his hand tighter. There were no more words between them, only shared breaths and moans as they both worked themselves closer to orgasm. Jared’s hand grew slick with come. Jensen gave one last thrust, body stiffening and head flying back into the pillow, before spilling on both their stomachs. Jared thrust a couple of more times, knowing the noises he was making were closer to grunts, before he followed Jensen.

Jared slid his hand out from between them and carefully settled his weight once more. He kissed Jensen gently, soothing the nips of his teeth from earlier. Jensen was happy to return the tenderness, hand drawing up through Jared’s hair. Jared flopped to one side, lying back, ignoring the dig of the suitcase into his side. He looked down and realised he needed to change his shirt, but reckoned that it was worth it.

Jensen was grinning when he looked over. “Guess I do need to take that shower after all?”

Jared smiled. “I might join you.” He then worried that this was too forward. Although he’d basically molested the guy and it didn’t seem too unwelcome.

Jensen seemed to sense his sudden worry and rolled over to lie on his side. “It is your shower, dude. And it’s our civic duty to save water, right?”

Jared could only nod, dumbly. He guessed he was always going to be surprised by Jensen Ackles.

  
Showering was boring after the events of the bedroom. After the sex. Jared supposed it counted as sex. He’d count it as sex. He wondered if Jensen did. He wondered what it would feel like to have Jensen being the one in charge like in his dream and found that he needed to take care of yet another pesky erection in the shower. It was worse than being a teenager again.

Then again, nothing was worse than being a teenager.

Jared had always been a little bit of an outsider. His wealth – his parent’s wealth – meant that there were plenty of people willing to be his acquaintance, but he never really trusted them. Chad, the guy he’d have called his best friend back then, spent most of their time talking about girls. Jared had tried, hard, to show enthusiasm but his lack of essential reaction to the magazines and porn sites that Chad was so interested in hinted that there was something more than the embarrassment factor at work. It didn’t help that his abilities seemed to enjoy the outrageous ups and downs of his hormones, drawing strength from his anger, his lusts, his sheer frustration.

Then he’d left, left San Antonio and Chad behind. He’d moved on. He’d found a new family before having to return to his old.

The magic still fed off his emotions, his lusts. The power he’d used to cleanse Jensen of the taint of the ring was probably feeding back into him. There was a more symbiotic cycle now. Hence the surprise… recovery.

Jensen had probably just been affected by the power. That was all. That was the only reason he’d reacted to Jared in the way that he had and Jensen probably didn’t even count that as sex anyway.

Jared repeated the trick with the t-shirt to get it over his chained up arm again. He was determined to show that nothing had changed between them. They had a job to do, a big nasty to stop and too many secrets to keep.

Jensen surprised him with a fresh cup of coffee and a soft hesitant kiss as he came back into the living room. The file was open and Jared numbly accepted everything that Jensen offered. They sat closer than they had before, knocking shoulders, leaning over to point things out. Jared’s skin tingled with every touch.

Jensen took a smoke break mid-afternoon, heading back out onto the balcony and watching the foul black smoke drift off on the light breeze. He seemed to enjoy leaning over Jared’s balcony, elbows balanced on the parapet. He looked comfortable, at home. Jared smiled at the thought.

He looked again at the photographs scattered over the table. There was something oddly familiar in the images inscribed on the outside of the box. Jared scratched his hand through his hair trying desperately to remember when he had seen something similar. He got up and started wandering towards his office, stopping once more to pick up the suitcase. Mysterious magical weapons or not, this suitcase was a pain in the butt.

Jared ran his fingertips along his bookshelves, searching for something to trigger his memory. His desk was covered in paper, his shelves stuffed with books of all shapes, sizes and bindings. There was a stack of books leaning haphazardly against the wall and Jared crouched to read their spines. He missed Jensen coming to stand in the doorway. Jensen coughed to catch his attention.

“I thought I might find something in here. There’s something at the edge of my memory…” Jared shrugged in frustration. Jensen’s eyes widened as he looked around the room.

“I thought my office was untidy.” He came over to stand beside Jared, ducking his head to look at the bookcase. “I don’t recognise most of these titles.”

“Some of them are, I guess, specialist?” Jared wasn’t quite sure how to explain. “My mother had collected some. Some were gifts. Some I found.” Jared picked up a paperback. “I’m not taking responsibility for this one, though.” It was a copy of The Da Vinci Code. Jensen snorted as he flicked through one of the books.

“I don’t even recognise the language. It looks like it should be Latin.” Jensen looked slightly panicked. “There’s just so much I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t think I can read half of these. I’m like a caretaker for some of them.” Jared slumped back in the seat behind his desk. He tilted it backwards and watched Jensen. A sudden idea began to form. “You actually touched the box, right? Not just saw it through glass like me.”

“Sure,” Jensen said. He turned to look at Jared curiously. “You’ve come up with something.”

“Maybe.” Jared brought his chair back and stood up. “You should have a seat.” He moved to stand behind the chair and Jensen came around to obey.

Jensen looked up at Jared. “If you were standing in front of me, I’d say you were angling for a blow job.”

Jared grinned at the thought before schooling his features to seriousness. “Later, tiger. But now I want you to close your eyes and think of the box. Think of touching it.” Jensen nodded to show he understood and shut his eyes obediently. Jared brushed his palms across Jensen’s short hair then brought them down to rest on his shoulders. “You kinda need to be quiet and concentrate here.”

Jensen nodded. Jared drew his concentration in and focused on their objective. He didn’t have a specific spell or ritual in mind here. In fact, it was as guesswork as the cleansing rite had been earlier. He had a feeling that his teachers would disapprove of the wasteful way he was throwing energy around. But they needed results quickly.

“There’s a book with the answers here. Find it.” He pushed his focus down through the palms of his hands. There was a moment when nothing happened and then Jared felt the tingle that signified something was happening low in the base of his spine. Jensen shifted under his arms before standing up. Jared was careful not to let his palms break contact, clutching the suitcase awkwardly under his arm.

Jensen shuffled forward to the bookcase. His eyes were still closed. Jared began to hope that this might actually work. There was another moment of hesitation before Jensen reached out his hand and pushed two books aside. He took a thin pamphlet from between them and stopped, holding it tight. Jared dropped his palms, breaking his concentration and Jensen shuddered.

“That was odd. I don’t think it worked,” he said. Then he opened his eyes and realised he was standing in the middle of the room clutching a book. “Or then again.”

Jared staggered back to the seat. Jensen turned to look at him in concern. “You alright?”

“Just give me a minute,” Jared reassured him. “Just took a lot of energy.”

Jensen looked at him for a minute. There was a bit of concern in his look but there was also something Jared recognised as fear. “This magic thing is real, huh?”

Jared nodded. His stomach rumbled loudly enough for Jensen to hear it right across the room. The noise broke the tension.

“Guess even super sorcerers need to keep their energy levels up?” Jensen’s face was more amused now. Jared nodded glumly. “So, best delivery option? You’re buying. I need dinner before I put out.”

Jensen wandered back through to the living room, already examining the pamphlet closely. Then he ducked his head round the door. He was blushing slightly. “Not that I’m easy or anything. Just, you know, the option might be on the table. So to speak.” He vanished from the doorway, leaving Jared gaping. Then he grinned slowly to the empty room. The option was on the table. He was so getting laid.

  
In the end Jensen understood more of the pamphlet than Jared did. The flimsy paper sheets held a copy of some ancient stones that had been found at an archaeological dig. The actual location of the dig was unclear, as was the provenance of the stone tablets. Jensen said he couldn’t tell from the surrounding explanation whether they were carved stone or clay or what. But the reproductions of the stones were clear enough for him to read.

“It’s a myth. The writing. A story. About a box with a demon trapped inside.” Jensen was getting excited. “You see the patterns here –“ He pointed to a design decorating the edge of the stone. “They are just like the patterns on the box. And on the ring.”

Jared nodded. They had been at this for most of the day. His head hurt, his eyes were gritty from the night’s interrupted rest and his stomach was still growling. He was grateful when the doorbell went. He headed into his bedroom to retrieve his wallet then handed it to Jensen. “I can’t answer the door like this.”

Jensen was happy enough to go answer the door but he tipped more generously that Jared would have. The pizza smelled fantastic. They devoured it standing either side of his kitchen counter, greasy fingers fighting for the best looking slices. Jared felt better after eating, but his full stomach made the urge to sleep more intense. He couldn’t hide a yawn.

With an understanding glance, Jensen cleared up the remains of the box and washed his hands. He brought a wet dishcloth over to Jared and insisted on helping to wipe Jared’s fingers clean of the grease and sauce. Heat rose between them, almost palpable, and Jared full-on yearned to run his hands across Jensen’s shoulders, down him biceps, drawing him close to tease open Jensen’s perfect lips with his tongue. Then he yawned. A tonsil exposing style yawn. The type of yawn that birds flew into.

So maybe he was a little tired.

  
Jared knew he was dreaming again. He knew this because Jensen had told him to head to bed while he continued working on the pamphlet. Jensen had kissed him again, twice. Once on the forehead like a good little boy and once on the lips, hard and fast and fierce. Jared reckoned he preferred the second kiss.

This time he was halfway up a hill, rain sleeting into his face. He felt cold and tired and ready to collapse any minute. Then Misha was there.

“Want to take us somewhere warmer, maybe?” Jared knew they were in a dream and he shouldn’t be able to feel. Misha for a ghost and no more susceptible to cold than he was. But he concentrated and they ended up in some freaky version of a professor’s study, a black and grey dog stretched in front of a roaring fire, bookcases fading into the darkness.

“You’ve got to get a move on,” Misha said. He was pacing and flickering. Jared wondered if it was agitation that made him do that. “It’s coming.”

“We found out some more. Jensen is-“ Jared stopped when Misha raised his hand.

“Do you really think you can trust him? He wore that ring. He lied about his name. Think about it. He’d know the perfect way to take the box.” Misha’s eyes were piercingly blue. “You need to move faster.”

Jared pulled away. There was no way he was listening to Misha. Every instinct he had told him Jensen was trustworthy. It was then he realised that they were not alone. Hulking in the shadows, there was a shape and a pair of red, smoking eyes. They widened and a maw gaped, teeth glittering in the firelight.

There was a noise. It could have been a scream or a shout. It was a groan of pain and anger. It could also have been a name. His name.

Jared woke up.

He was cold, mainly because he’d worked the sheets off his body. The night was chill and he shivered. Then he felt a warm, solid arm wrap around him.

“Jay?” Jensen voice was heavy with sleep and muffled by the pillow. Jensen leaned up on one elbow and rubbed at his eyes. “You okay?”

“Bad…” Jared’s throat dried up. He coughed and ran his tongue around his lips, trying to moisten them. “Bad dream.”

Jensen woke a little more at that. He reached down to grab the end of the duvet and pulled it up over Jared and himself. Then he arranged himself along Jared’s side, pulling him close. “Go back to sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

Jared wished that could be true. He slowed his breathing and closed his eyes. Jensen was wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of boxers. The bare skin of his legs was warm through Jared’s pyjama pants. The heaviness of Jensen’s arm should have been smothering. Instead it was comforting. Jared hoped Misha was wrong.

  
Jared must have drifted off again because the sun woke him next morning. All the idiocy of the night seemed ridiculous considering that he was a grown man. A grown man on a mission. He had a world to save!

At least, Jared thought, as the smell of frying bacon came floating into the bedroom, after breakfast.

  
Jensen roughed out the story for Jared. Some kind of monster, that the tablets called Black Bones, had been trapped in the box by a wily adventurer. The enemies of the adventurer had taken the box and used it as a weapon against him. They’d cast him down but he’d done the usual traipse through the underworld and returned stronger to kill them all then turn into a god. Jensen was muttering about Greek and Babylonian archetypes as he pointed bits out.

“But it still doesn’t tell us exactly what the persons unknown - who actually have the box - are really up to,” Jared complained. Jensen was leaning beside him at the kitchen counter. Their bodies touched wherever possible, arms and legs and hips pressed tight. “I’d like a clue, please. Like ‘you have to slaughter all of your followers’ or something.”

“It does say something about blood of the innocents,” Jensen said as he flipped through his notes. “Here. ‘A thousand and a thousand more, blood breaks bonds.’ Nice and ominous.” There was a mockery of a smile on his face.

“So where is he, or them, or it, going to get a couple of thousand people to wipe out?” Jared stood up, stretching his back.

Jensen watched appreciatively for a minute before realising he should probably be trying to answer the question. “Some kind of event. Sports or concert? Could be anything. We could come at this from the other side. Find the box and get it back?”

Jared stared at Jensen for a minute.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Jensen scrubbed his hand over his stubble.

“Why didn’t I think of that? Should have been the first thing I did.” Jared stomped back through to his office and started opening desk drawers. He pulled out a map of the city and flung it at Jensen. “Spread that out. Kitchen floor would be the best idea, I think.”

Jensen nodded as Jared went back to raiding his desk. Then he headed back to the kitchen. Jared came through a minute later. He had the box containing the ring, a tangle of ribbon and some chalk, which he used to draw a circle around the spread out map. “I guess it’ll still be in the city, right?”

“Right.” Jensen looked puzzled. “And?”

“Resonance. Unless they’ve shielded it, of course. But we have to hope they haven’t. Christ, this was one of the first things I learned how to do.” Jared muttered. He had to set the suitcase on the ground to open the box and fish out the ring. “Stupid,” he muttered as he threaded it onto the ribbon.

Jared stood, ushered Jensen off to the side of the room. Then he stepped onto the map, letting the ribbon dangle from his fingertips. It swayed from side to side before starting to move more determinedly towards the bottom of the map. Jared took a step back and brought his arm back, careful to not move his hand too much. The ring almost strained at the end of the ribbon, pulling it tight. Jared knelt, letting the ring pull him towards the streets of the business district. It wound in a tight circle around a block right in the middle of the area. Then the ring shot across the map, pulling the ribbon from Jared’s loose grip and slamming into the invisible barrier at the far side of the map. Jensen had flinched as it flew towards him, hands flying up to protect his face. He lowered them slowly as Jared bent to look more closely at the area of the map the ring had seemed drawn to.

It was more than they had before.

“Guess they have some shielding. But we should be good to go. I think the next bit is going to require some leg work.” Jared frowned, looking at the suitcase. “Though god knows how I’m going to explain this.”

  
In the end, it was Jensen who came up with the solution. He had Jared place the suitcase into a bag from a designer menswear store that he found in the bottom of the wardrobe. Tangling the cords of the handles around his wrist disguised the chain. Jensen placed a pair of pretentious sunglasses onto Jared’s nose and stood back to see the final effect.

“Perfect.” Jensen grinned at Jared’s expression. It could only be described as a pout.

“I look like a douche.” Jared twisted in front of the mirror.

Jensen leaned up and popped the collar on his polo shirt. “Nah. Now you look like a douche.”

Jensen insisted that they stop past his hotel. “I’ve been wearing these clothes for a day already. If we’re going to do this properly, I think a fresh shirt would be a good plan.”

“You could borrow one of mine?” Jared offered. He liked the idea of Jensen in his clothing. There was a moment where he had a flash of peeling Jensen out of his old Cowboys shirt.

“They’d drown me, dude. You’re, like, built.” Jensen’s hands sketched out the width of Jared’s shoulders. “Stacked. Massive…” He trailed off and grinned. “And, from what I remember, proportionate. Hazy memory. Need to check that again.”

Jensen headed for the door. Just as well, Jared thought. _Wouldn’t do for him to see me blushing like a schoolgirl_.

They ended up standing in front of what looked like a perfectly ordinary building. Jared thought it was a little on the boring side. It couldn’t compare in either grandeur or presence like the building his father’s company occupied. The doors to the lobby were grimy, like the window cleaner didn’t get paid to come that regularly. There were no signs above the door or even attached to the wall beside the row of mailboxes.

“I don’t know. I mean, I wasn’t exactly expected the Temple of Zuul or anything…” Jared tilted his head to look over the top of his sunglasses. The building was so innocuous that it practically screamed to be ignored.

“Marshmallow Man. Ugh.” Jensen shivered. “Imagine that gloop everywhere.”

Jared looked at him strangely. “But imagine also the size of the ‘smores.”

“Good point.” Jensen’s attention had already shifted. “I don’t see how we’re getting in without going through the front door.” He turned to Jared. “I don’t think going through the front door is a plan we should be considering.”

Jared shook his head. “I think we need coffee.” He led the way to a coffee shop housed in the lobby of the building opposite. Tables sheltered by umbrella parasols spilled onto the sidewalk and Jared picked a table with a good view of the other side of the road. He sent Jensen inside to get the actual drinks, pointing out, quite correctly, that he was currently rather weighed down.

It had turned out that the suitcase was good for other things than making dressing difficult. The minute that they’d turned onto the street, the case had seemed possessed of the same attraction that the ring had shown earlier, all but dragging them to the doorstep before suddenly shying away. Jared knew enough to trust his instincts.

“Think I can smoke here?” Jensen asked, placing a sweating cup in front of Jared. He’d gone for some iced concoction from which Jared took a grateful sip. It was hot out here, even though it was only midmorning. The steam rose off the top of Jensen’s seemingly tar-like drink. Black as oil and probably just as strong. Jared slid the heavy metal ashtray over in Jensen’s direction as Jensen fished a cigar out of his pocket and lit it.

Jared realised it was probably something Jensen did when he needed to think. They both consumed their vices, eyes fixed on the building opposite.

“Underground parking garage or delivery entrance?” Jared eventually broke the silence.

Jensen tore his attention away from the office block. “Huh?”

“That would be our way in. I think that the delivery entrance is more likely to have guards but we would have an easier time getting onto the actual upper floors. The garage probably just leads to the lobby again. The not the front door plan.” Jared made an obscene slurping sound. Yeah, still not cool.

“Sounds like you learned something from college pranks. Did you rush?” Jensen lifted an eyebrow. So very cool.

“About that.” Jared took a deep breath. “I didn’t actually go to college. That’s just what we tell people. My family tells people.”

Jensen didn’t say anything but his eyes were fixed on Jared’s face.

“You were all honest about who you were and the stealing thing – which is definitely weird, by the way.” Jared squirmed under the incessant, unyielding scrutiny. “I might have gone away from home for a time. I was young and wanted to break away from being Gerald Padalecki’s son, you know.”

“Uh-huh. Because being son of one of the richest men in Texas is such a burden.” Jensen’s voice was dry. “Was this a magic thing?”

“Oh no. I was trying to escape that too. That’s my mom’s side of the family.” Jared knew that avoiding the truth was just going to make Jensen more annoyed. “I wanted a clean break, where they don’t ask too many questions. So I joined the army.”

Jensen spit the mouthful of coffee he’d just taken back into the cup. “What?”

“So, turns out that being athletic at school means shit in Basic. But yeah, instead of four years at college, I did a tour. Two years infantry, two years… I suppose you’d call us Special Ops.” Jared took another slurp of his drink. He had no idea how Jensen would take this.

“And they just let you walk away?” Jensen’s eyes were narrowed. Jared realised he was thinking rapidly.

Jared winced. “I’m a little too unsubtle for Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. There was an incident that couldn’t be ignored. And a mission that went a bit sideways.” Jared bent down and lifted his pant leg up to reveal a network of white scars on the back of his calf.

Jensen looked closely. His fingers twitched like he might try and touch. “I thought that was just an old sports injury or something.”

“Or something.” Jared let his pants fall back to the ground and sat up. “I’m not supposed to talk about it. But I might know something about entering hostile territory on the quiet.”

 

The delivery men made it all too easy. The water cooler company logo was proud and plain on the side of the truck and the way they stopped two blocks over to have a sly cigarette meant that Jared had every opportunity to check they were delivering to the correct place before using a quick muttered incantation to make the men decide to have a nap. They were tall guys too, making uniform stealing that little bit easier. Jared tucked his hair back over his ears before putting on the cap.

Jensen slid into the driver’s seat and carefully pulled away from the kerbside.

 

The security guard had waved them through with a cursory glance at his clipboard. The freight elevator was unguarded and Jared deposited the suitcase behind a cooler refill and tilted the trolley back to wheel it in. Jensen carried another refill on his shoulder, biceps bulging and straining against the short sleeves of his borrowed uniform shirt. So maybe Jensen was being a little distracting.

They tugged their caps down low and headed out when the door opened. There was not the expected dark altar and smoking candles. Not even the sound of chanting. Instead it sounded like every other office: phones ringing, background chatter, the clatter of keyboards. Jensen hugged the wall as he delivered his water bottle, slinging the old one onto his shoulder in its place.

“We should have worn suits,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Jared knew that Jensen looked good in a suit. He had a happy moment.

“I don’t think that would have helped.” They were being ignored by most of the people in the room, although Jared caught a few admiring glances from some of the older women. Jensen fiddled with the water cooler, testing the pumps to make sure they worked. Jared glanced around casually. “Stairwell is probably our best option. Dump this in the elevator and take the stairs up.”

Jensen nodded in agreement and followed Jared back to the far end of the room. Jared could feel a pressure at the base of his skull, a constant nag that he realised was stronger the longer they spent in the building. He couldn’t decide if it was the box itself or some side effect of the shielding. They went unnoticed as they wheeled the handcart back towards the elevators. Jensen ducked around a plant, dumping the empty bottle and then sliding through the door leading to the stairwell. Jared watched to see if anyone had noticed before he followed.

They moved more quickly now, feeling the threat of being caught. Jared tried to be as quiet as he could as they climbed the stairs. His old skills were starting to resurface. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, driving him to move faster, to pay sharper attention. A stairwell door opened below him and voices echoed up before drifting down. Jensen looked panicked and out of puff for a moment.

Jared stopped before they reached the top floor. None of the other doors had any sort of protection on them, but this door was sealed with a keypad over the lock. “I don’t suppose your propensity for stealing has made you learn how to pick a lock?”

“I’m more of an opportunist,” Jensen said. “I can give it a go.”

Jared let him kneel down and investigate. More voices travelled up the stairs. He couldn’t make out what they were saying. Jensen rose gracefully. “Nope. Beyond my skills.”

Suddenly footsteps pounded up the stairs towards them. “No time for subtlety,” Jared muttered. He leaned back as far as he could and lunged at the door. It shook in its frame but didn’t give. Jared tried again. This time the wood splintered around the lock and it gave. The footsteps grew nearer as Jared dragged Jensen though.

The room on the other side of the door looked pretty normal. Still no obvious evidence of anything amiss. Jensen shivered against his side. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you not feel that? We shouldn’t be here.” All colour had drained from Jensen’s face. His freckles stood out sharply on his wan cheeks. He shivered violently. “Not here.”

Jared felt it then. Sheer malevolence. Evil, plain and simple. There were no shades of grey here. He shook his head – they had to move from inside the door.

A corridor stretched blandly in front of them, beige and cream. Innocuous, forgettable prints hung evenly spaced between doorways. Jensen was clinging to Jared now. Jared moved. He opened the first door and looked in. Empty. He shut the door after them then lowered Jensen to sit on the dark leather sofa posed against the wall.

“It’ll be alright, Jensen. Listen to me. I’m not going to let it get you.” Jared kept his voice soft and unhurried despite the panic rising in him. Obviously Jensen was affected by whatever was happening for some reason. Jared hated to guess but wondered if it was to do with his exposure to the ring or the fact he’d uncovered the box in the first place.

Jensen grinned weakly. “It’s not supposed to be getting me. It’s not supposed to exist.”

Jared realised that there were no footsteps outside the door and they’d been left alone. They should have been easy to find. “Just wait here.”

Jensen looked like he was about to object but just nodded and sunk back onto the sofa. Every so often, Jared could seem him try to supress another shake. Obviously what was causing this wasn’t diminishing.

Jared checked when he opened the door but the hallway was still empty. He kept to one side, listening to the doors he passed, hushing his footsteps in the thicker carpet pile. He passed the elevator doors, barely paying them a glance. The corridor didn’t completely bisect the building. Instead there was a pair of doors at the far end. There was a low thrumming sound coming from them. Jared moved towards it as quickly as he dared. He was holding the handle of the suitcase now, readying it to use as a weapon.

There was nowhere to hide when the doors opened as he approached. They swung inwards leaving Jared completely in view of whoever was in the room. He took a deep breath, preparing for what was going to happen. Inside the room, there was an inky blackness only lit by the odd guttering candle.

A low voice issued out from the dark. “Come and join us, Mr Padalecki.”

Jared shrugged. He had to see this through. He crossed the threshold.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness slightly. He could make out heavy drapes covering the windows, allowing no natural light in. The shapes of heavy furniture loomed from the edges of the room. Most of the space had been cleared to make way for a squat square table. It was covered with a cloth and on top rested the box. It looked bigger than Jared remembered.

The doors swung shut behind him. The room sunk into a more profound level of darkness, no light creeping in from the corridor. Jared could feel fear trying to clutch at him but he resisted giving into panic. There was a movement in the room, a flicker, like Misha in his dream. That was new. He’d never seen magical creatures move in the real world like that. He filed the thought away for further analysis later, too busy trying to deal with the fact that the… figure was now pretty much staring up his nostrils.

“Hi,” Jared said. Manners cost nothing.

The figure kept staring up at him. Jared took the time to look it over – he reckoned it was a man, dressed in one of those suits that could be old-fashioned or just plain old. It was black, naturally. The man’s hair was slicked back around his bald spot and his pale eyes were wide and totally focused on him. Jared resisted the urge to take a step back. Then the figure began to laugh. “You have no idea what is going on here. Do you, Mr Padalecki?”

Jared shrugged. “I know that box was stolen. My friend wanted to get it back. Doesn’t look good for the museum, you know. And since you know my name, how about sharing yours?” Jared drew himself up to his full height and attempted to loom. The man didn’t look impressed.

“I would be more concerned about your friend, Mr Padalecki.” The man started to walk away, back to a chair that lay facing away from the door. He did that flickering movement thing and then lowered himself into the seat. “He is not feeling too well.”

Jared looked behind him as the doors opened again. The corridor looked darker, bleaker someone. He saw the door to the room he’d put Jensen in open. He heard Jensen shout out, something that could have been his name. It came to him. The doors weren’t opening by themselves. Something – something he couldn’t see normally - was opening them. Something invisible was in the corridor with him. Something was in the room with Jensen now. Jared hoped to hell it wasn’t the thing he’d seen take the box in the first place.

He pounded along the corridor, suitcase swinging, ignoring the need for stealth. Jensen cried out again, a growl of pain and anger. Jared hurtled through the door. Jensen was pinned against the far wall, legs dangling. A thin smear of blood trailed down the side of his face. His eyes were glazed.

Jared hoped his hunch was right. He swung the suitcase through the air in front of Jensen. It connected with something, hard enough to cause air to be expelled from whatever was there. Jared didn’t hear a noise but the hot, reeking breath was foul against his skin. Jensen dropped to the ground. Jared swung the case again and backed towards Jensen. It didn’t seem to connect this time. He reached a hand down and was glad when Jensen grabbed it and used it to scramble to his feet. Jensen was obviously not hurt too badly.

They made their way to the door carefully. Jared kept the case up like a weapon. A hot puff of air brushed against the back of his neck and he swung the case around, pushing Jensen behind him. Then they were at the door.

Jensen moved to head to the stairs but Jared shook his head. He tugged Jensen towards the elevator, moving as quickly as caution would allow. Jensen pushed the button and the doors pinged open. It looked empty.

Jared stepped in closely followed by Jensen. There were a few anxious moments as the doors closed and the car began dropping to the lobby. Jared kept moving the suitcase in front of him, trying to ensure nothing else was with them. Jensen looked more like the confident archaeologist that Jared had first met as they travelled further from the floor with the box. He smiled wanly when the doors chimed and opened onto the lobby.

Jensen took the lead, strolling out confidently and ignoring the shouts of the man at the security desk. Jared followed him. The sun was still shining outside when they stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Where now?” Jensen asked.

Jared lifted his face and let the sun warm it. It felt good. Reassuring. He needed some more reassuring. “I think we need more help.”

Jensen muttered something that might have been “no shit” but Jared ignored him. All his thoughts were leading to one inescapable conclusion. There really was only one source of available help.

“I think we have to go see my mother.”

 

Jared’s parents lived just outside the city in a sprawling house. The driveway was long, flanked by lawns, but Jared didn’t allow Jensen any time to look around as he pulled around to the back of the house. French doors were open to allow the light breeze in through gauzy white drapes. Jared didn’t pay any attention to their delicate nature as he hauled them apart to let Jensen enter the house.

“Mom?” he yelled out. There was a scrabbling of claws on the floor and then two large dogs came hurtling around the corner to leap around Jared. He knelt to ruffle the fur at the back of their heads. He looked up to see Jensen staring down at him, a soft smile on his face. Jared ducked his head, suddenly shy.

“Jared? And Mr Bonham?” His mom followed the dogs into the airy room. “I knew it had to be you when the dogs took off.”

Jared stood up. “Yeah. So we’ve got a bit of a problem.”

“What can I do to help?” His mom looked at him for a moment. “And why have you got a suitcase fastened to your arm?”

 

Once they’d shared the entire story with her – up to and including Jensen’s real name, although not the whole kissing/jerking/maybe seeing each other part – she sat back and thought for a long moment. “I’ve got some books for you to look at. But… I think I might know what they’ll target.”

Jared swallowed. He couldn’t speak. He nodded at her to go on.

“I’ve been invited to a charity music gala tonight. The concert hall is behind the building you say you broke into.” She broke off and shook her head. “Part of me can’t believe they’d target it.”

“Why not, Mrs Padalecki?” Jensen’s voice was soft and intense.

“The gala is being held by the music school. The hall will be full of children.” His mom’s voice shook. “You have to stop them.”

 

Now they had a time limit. Jared felt the pressure as he hastily leafed through the books his mom gave him. Jensen was no less intense, asking questions of his mom, stalking back and forth, trying to recall more details of the dig.

Jared tossed his latest book onto the cluttered table. “I think we have to force them to fully incorporate, be in a body. Materialise – that’d be the word. Once that happens, I think I should be able to stop them.”

“Why’s that?” Jensen furrowed his brow in thought.

“Because then I can use weaponry. That’s the rules. They’re vulnerable once they materialise.” Jared hefted the suitcase. “And we’ve got whatever is in here.”

“Jared. Tell him the whole truth.” His mom sounded angry but resigned.

Jared hesitated. “Because they’ve materialised, they’ll be more powerful. Much more able to interfere in our lives.”

Jensen shook his head. He didn’t seem to understand.

Jared shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You go with my mom to the concert. I don’t know if evacuating is better or trying to stop whatever is going on.” Jared paused. Jensen was shaking his head.

“No, man. I think I go with you. I know I have to go with you. You need someone to watch your back. Your mom can make the call about the concert.” Jensen’s eyes were fierce. He was watching Jared a little too intensely for Jared’s comfort.

His mom interrupted. “I agree with Jensen, Jared. You need someone else to help.”

Jared looked between them. He could tell that his mom had probably picked up on the undercurrent between them. She always knew when he was trying to hide his interest in someone. And Jensen just seemed determined to see this through to the end. Jared had a sudden flash of insight. Jensen thought that this was all his fault. Jensen thought that if he’d never tried to go back to doing the thing he loved, this whole situation would never have happened.

“Okay.” Jared knew when he was beaten. “Mom, does the safe still have the same combination?”

 

Jared dragged Jensen along with him to the basement. His mom was busy getting some food organised for them. The basement looked like every other basement Jared had ever been in – half of it given over to storage. The other half was being renovated into a gym, going by the equipment lying around. Towards the back of the room, a heavy door protected the family safe.

Jared paused before opening it. “You know none of this is your fault, right?”

Jensen slumped against the wall beside him. “It kinda is.” Jensen ran his hand over his mouth and jaw wearily. “If I hadn’t gone on that stupid dig-“

“Someone else would have found that box. And we’d still be in this situation. Or, at least, I would.” Jared entered the combination and opened the door. Jensen stayed slumped against the wall. Jared left the door open and came to stand in front of him. He leaned in, feeling a now familiar excitement zip through his body as he felt Jensen’s warmth against his skin. Jared leaned forward and kissed him. It was nothing more than a soft, chaste brush of lips.

When he pulled back, Jensen was looking up at him. “In your parent’s house, dude?”

“Totally.” Jared pressed back down, letting more of his body come in contact with Jensen. For all he was shorter, Jensen still fitted perfectly against him, hips brushing close and arms rising to wrap around Jared’s neck and back. The hand on his back slid lower, brushing along his waistline. Jensen’s lips opened on a soft gasp, allowing Jared’s tongue to slide along Jensen’s, letting Jared suck that plump, edible lip into his mouth.

Jensen pulled back, eyes now dazed. “Safe?”

“My mom’s not going to come down here.” Jared laughed when Jensen rolled his eyes and pointed to the open door beside them. “Oh, that safe.”

 

All too soon they were back outside the tower block that held the box and its guardians. Night time was rapidly approaching and the shadows were deepening around them. Street lights flickered on almost reluctantly.

“Do we sneak in again?” Jensen asked. He’d shown a burst of confidence when Jared handed him some of the objects in the safe but that was fading under the pressure of actually being back here again.

Jared shook his head. “I think they’ll be expecting us. Frontal assault.” Jared risked one more check of the contents of his pocket before shifting the suitcase in his hand. “I just hope that whatever is in here works as well as Aldis and Misha seemed to think it would.”

They pushed open both glass doors, walking in side by side, and headed for the elevators together. The guard behind the desk didn’t move. Jared glanced over at him. From outside, it had looked like the man was leaning back in his chair, head tilted to watch the security monitors. From here, it was clear that his body had been positioned that way after his throat had been slit. Jensen had pressed the call button before he noticed.

“The guard?” Jensen’s voice was a little strangled.

“Guess they’re starting with the people in the building.” Jared had to clamp down on his own fear. He had no idea how many people worked here. If he let himself think about them and their families and friends, everything would come crashing down on him.

They stepped into the elevator and Jared hovered over the buttons. “I think we should go to the floor above and regroup. The stairs give us more of a controlled entry.”

Jensen shrugged. “You’re the expert, after all.”

The elevator started moving.

Suddenly, they weren’t alone any more.

Misha stood, smaller than he appeared in Jared’s dreams and a little more crumpled. He was still wearing a suit jacket, although his usual dress pants had been replaced by jeans. His shirt seemed to waver between a t-shirt and a white button down. “Hi.”

Jared let out a squeak. “What?”

“Hi. Nice to meet you in person, so to speak.” Jared realised then that he could see the back of the elevator through Misha. Jensen seemed to be seeing the same thing. He was slightly braver. He raised a hand and wiggled it through Misha’s body. Misha shuddered. “That is just a weird feeling.”

“Jensen, this is Misha. He pops up in my dreams and chats. He’s dead.” Jared scrubbed his free hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t be here. The rules…”

“The rules are being changed. Whatever they’re doing up there? It’s letting us all materialise. Not just whatever the spell is targeted at. There’s so much energy being thrown about. And they’ve not even got to the main event. Can’t you feel it?” Misha flickered for a moment. When he fully reappeared, he seemed more solid again. “They’re setting us all free.”

There was a wild glee on Misha’s face. Sure it would be nice to not have people dropping past his dreams because they could be out here in the real world, doing their own dirty work. Then Jared thought more about it. Misha was a decent guy. He was just looking to keep an eye on his wife. But there were things that lurked out there in that in-between world that really shouldn’t be let loose on an unsuspecting population. Lots of things with fangs and too many claws that hung around in the shadows. It would be a bloodbath if they all got free.

“Is it just here? In Dallas? Or is it everywhere?” Jared demanded.

“Here for now,” Misha said. Jensen was looking confused. The elevator pinged to a stop. The doors opened on a familiar looking corridor. This time, the beast who had attacked Jensen was standing there in plain sight. Jared had been right. He did look like the monster who had stolen the box. Only this time, Jared could see every twist of muscle, every inch of height and the frightening gleam of eyes that had fires burning hot and frenzied.

There was no time for hesitation. Jared pulled the pistol he’d hidden in his pocket out and peppered the creature with bullets. It howled in pain and surprise and lumbered off down the corridor. Jared flung himself out of the elevator and hit the opposite wall. He looked up and down the hallway. There were odd flickers that seemed to indicate more materialising things – some human shaped, some not so much. Jared nodded to Jensen as he reloaded his gun. Jensen had his own guns out now.

There had been some discussion about whether Jensen should arm himself from the safe which had been brought to a rapid close when Jensen pointed out he’d been a Texan long before he’d been an archaeologist. Jared had still been unsure until he’d seen the careful way Jensen checked the guns before sliding them into their holsters.

Jensen followed him out into the hallway. Misha stayed in the elevator. They had ended up on the floor with the double doors at the end. Jensen hissed, swaying slightly. “The… weirdness? It’s stronger. I don’t know…” Jensen shook himself then straightened his spine. “I can cope,” he said, obviously trying to reassure himself as much as Jared.

Jared smiled at him. He felt proud and impressed and wanted nothing more than to go and kiss Jensen thoroughly. That would have to wait. He made his way up the corridor, trying to watch in both directions at once. It wouldn’t do to be caught unawares. The flickering creatures looked to be in some pain as they became corporeal. There was odd snatches of sound – whispers, shrieks, groans – cut off in mid voice. Then Jared realised that he could feel the pressure that Jensen must be feeling: a malevolent, wicked, throbbing pressure that threatened worse to come.

Jared kicked the doors open. It felt good to be doing something violent.

The room was still dark but more candles had been lit. They were arranged on the floor in some kind of pattern that Jared had to drag his eyes away from. This was serious spell work. The box lay on its crate, sending off waves of obnoxious malice. If Jared squinted, he could make out the impression of a huge shadowy figure with flaming red eyes standing over it.

The doors slammed behind him. Jared risked a look over his shoulder. Jensen had come up behind him and was now facing the doors, arms steady as he raised his guns. There were more of the monsters – Jared really needed a better classification system. They weren’t exactly after cookies – looming large against the door but making no move to attack. The man who had been there before stood up out of his chair. His eyes were bright with excitement.

“Mr Padalecki! So good to see you again. And you brought a friend.” The man was in full on evil villain mode. He even rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Your blood will make a most delicious addition to our spell.”

Jared shook his head. He hated it when guys felt the need to channel Bond villains. Although the monologuing meant that he had more time to think. Jensen was a solid support at his back. He raised his gun and let off a single shot. The man dodged it. Full on Matrix dodge. Jared swore.

“I don’t like it when people shoot at me. Reminds me a little too much of the way I died first time around.” The man beckoned and Jensen gasped as the monsters at the door came closer. Jared made a sudden decision and turned to drop to his knee. He brought the gun up, supporting it with his other hand and emptied the cartridge into the middle of one of the beasts. Jensen followed suit a moment later, aiming at the other one. Dark ooze sluggishly flowed from the wounds. The creatures stopped moving, puzzled by the pain they were now feeling. It was as if their brains couldn’t process it. Instead they slumped to the floor, limbs twitching long after the light in their eyes had started to dim.

Jared wasn’t surprised to feel his hand pulled suddenly upward and the gun plucked out of it. There was no one there. Jensen managed to react to the movement and let off a few rounds before he was similarly disarmed.

The man sniffed as he inspected the guns. “Silver bullets.” He tossed them over his shoulder where they vanished. Jared decided that he deserved to be called Jeeves or Edward or one of those prissy British names.

Jared grinned. His arm was still dangling in mid-air. If he concentrated, he was sure he could almost feel the claws digging in. So if there was no way he was getting out of this, he may as well enjoy it. “What? Did you think we’d be completely unprepared?”

“There is no time for this. Restrain them.” Jeeves wandered back to his chair. Jared felt himself being tugged to his feet and went with it. All too soon, he and Jensen had been wrapped in rope and fastened to the legs of the desk. As restraining went, it wasn’t the best type Jared could think of.

Jensen reached out with his foot. He shifted until it was pressed against Jared’s thigh. Jared moved so his leg crossed Jensen’s and Jensen stopped straining so ridiculously.

“At least they didn’t gag us,” Jensen muttered. His face was pale and Jared could see beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. He wished that they were the good kind of sweat rather than fear sweat. “They could have let me have one last cigar.”

“Sacrificed to a prehistoric demon. Good times.” Jared leaned his head back and let it rest against the solid leg of the desk. There was no give in it. No way to wriggle loose. The suitcase was still chained to his left wrist but the way it was positioned meant that the handcuff bracelet was digging in uncomfortably.

Jensen ran his leg over Jared’s. “Why haven’t they killed us yet?”

“Probably because we’re to be the final tasty treat. I mean, symbolically, you did find the box and I’m…” Jared wasn’t quite sure how to explain it.

“Just edible,” Jensen joked, licking his lips.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Jared teased right back at him. Then he felt the unfairness of the situation sink in again. “I’d like you to be able to decide if I really am though.”

Jensen nodded, his eyes softening. “Right back at you.”

They sank into silence, watching the room, occasionally shifting their legs to reassure the other that they were there. Jared couldn’t keep track of the time. It could have been an hour, it could have been ten minutes later when the man stood up again looking excited.

He looked at Jensen and Jared. “The Mnemonlith are such good servants but they do not understand when I say what excitement this brings. There are no more living human beings in this building. That is beyond yourselves.”

“Yay?” Jared questioned, sarcastically.

Jeeves looked a little bit annoyed. “My master is so close to coming through.”

Jared rolled his eyes at Jensen then. The whole villain speak was starting to get on his nerves. He wriggled a little in his ropes to show what he hoped was an appropriate level of fear and worry. Instead he felt the bracelet click off. He indulged in a moment of relief before realising he couldn’t reach the suitcase anyway.

The door to the room swung open. Misha stumbled through looking worse for wear. His hair was mussed and his clothing ripped. His left arm hung awkwardly at his side. Behind him came Aldis, looking more intense than he normally did. His eyes were narrowed and Jared was not quite sure that he wanted to know what the red substance staining his teeth was. Aldis raised his arm and casually swatted the man across the face. The man stumbled back before regaining his balance. Aldis eagerly followed.

Misha made his way around the room to kneel at Jared’s back. His hands fumbled at the rope. “Wasn’t wimping out on you,” Misha muttered. “Just needed to bring in the big guns.”

Jared watched as Aldis seemed to grapple with nothing. The fierce look on his face seemed to grow more intense the more he struggled. Finally Misha managed to get him free and shifted over to help Jensen. “Check the suitcase!”

Jared tore his eyes away from the battle to see the case lying popped open. He grabbed it and opened it fully. Inside nestled an axe, a small double headed one. Jared grabbed it. “What am I supposed to do with this? I don’t know how to use an axe.”

Misha glanced across. “Give it a minute.”

Jared wasn’t sure if they had that time available. The room was becoming darker around the box. Jeeves was on his knees, pretty much where he’d fallen when Aldis had tossed him but he was chanting now, his voice a counterpoint to the groans and grunts that were coming from Aldis’ direction.

Jensen rose to his feet, finally free. “No axe for me?”

Jared looked at him. He was still shaking and pale but scrubbing his hands on his legs in determination. Jensen was going to stay beside him. Jared leaned over and pulled him into a rough hug. He kissed Jensen, once, swiftly, before turning back to Jeeves and the presence hanging behind the box. “Here goes nothing.”

Putting his not inconsiderable strength behind it, Jared swung the axe. It hit the box squarely in the middle and didn’t quite have the effect he’d hoped for. The box shattered but it didn’t stop anything. Jeeves’ chanting grew faster, the figure swelled, almost to the point of reaching the ceiling until there was a distinct pop. Jared stumbled back, trying to keep Jensen behind him. Misha seemed happy to follow. Across the room, Aldis was also trying to get his back to the wall, to get out of the room.

The figure behind what remained of the box swelled once more and there was a flash of light. Jared felt the axe in his hand start to twitch and shift. It felt unpleasantly like cold grease running over his hand. He couldn’t stop and look at it. Instead his eyes were fixed on the thing appearing in the middle of the light.

If he’d thought that the monsters from before had too many parts, that was nothing compared to the figure coming through. He faintly heard Jensen retch and had to firmly tell his stomach to stay put. The creature seemed made of parts of too many animals, but unlike griffons or sphinxes, nothing was in proportion or even fixed. Scales gave way to feathers which in turn gave way to fur. There was no consistency to the colour either. Its eyes shifted too, faceted like flies one moment, all too human the next. There was always a ruby red burn to them.

“Aw, shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Misha was back to his flickering best beside him. Jeeves looked ecstatic. Jensen was straightening up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Jared lifted the axe.

Only it wasn’t an axe any more. It was a shiny silver replica of his favourite P90. Jared grinned recklessly. Maybe destroying the box wasn’t something he’d been able to control after all. According to everything he’d ever read, materialisation always made creatures vulnerable. At least to begin with. Jared opened fire.

The mouth of the gun spat fire. No, literally. The bullets flying out of it were gleaming gold in the darkness. They were obviously no normal bullets. When Jared squinted against the light, he could make out an incandescent silver at their core. They tore into the demon in front of them, ripping off chunks of what Jared chose to categorise as flesh. He shifted his aim, squeezing off another burst of bullets. He aimed at the centre of the creature’s mass. Then he aimed a burst at its head. The monster was screaming now, a wailing that shook Jared’s teeth in his head. He didn’t let up.

The monster flailed one of its many limbs. Its claws were like knives, metallic and brutally sharp. The arm swept past Jeeves, slicing through his skin and bone like it was paper. The chanting had risen until it was ecstatic and at the high point it choken off. Jeeves didn’t scream or yell as he was ripped to ribbons. The monster seemed to draw strength from his murder. It stood tall, flesh flowing to cover the wounds Jared’s bullets had torn in its body.

Jared had to concentrate again to supress his nausea. The look of the flowing, shifting flesh seemed to press every survival button he had. The urge to flee was prominent. His most basic human urges were telling him that this creature was deadly, was terrible and was going to kill him. Jared’s hand shook as he brought the gun up again.

He was aware that one of the surviving beasts from before was leaping at him. He dropped to provide a smaller target, not letting it interrupt the flow of bullets for more than a moment. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Jensen fall back and grab one of their guns from earlier. Jared knew he couldn’t shift his focus. If he didn’t take out this beast in front of him, this would all be in vain. He shifted forward, almost at point blank range. The creature was diminishing in front of his eyes.

The gun flared brightly once more, so brightly Jared had to squeeze his eyes shut and turn his head. He took his finger off the trigger but it made no difference. There was a wet splat sound and the light faded. When he looked back, there were merely smoking remains of shrivelled meat on the carpet. Jeeves was nowhere to be seen either. Jared spun around. Jensen was lying on the ground, paler than before. Misha leaned over him.

Jared dashed across the floor to kneel beside them. Jensen’s dark t-shirt had a dark spreading stain on his left side. His eyes were shut. “Jensen?”

Jensen’s eye lashes fluttered a few times before he opened them up. There was very little sparkle left in his eyes. “J’red. Did we win?” His voice was faint.

“We won, I think.” Misha nodded at his side. “Misha says we won.”

“Kinda cold. The air con mustn’t be right.” Jensen shivered. Jared stretched out his hand, hesitating. Then he brought it down to touch Jensen’s side. The stain was warm and when Jared lifted his hand away, it was red.

Jared leaned down and brushed his lips over Jensen’s forehead. He rested his head against Jensen’s temple. He could feel Jensen’s breath slow then stop and fade to nothing. He became aware of Misha tugging at his arm then. The actual tugging had less strength behind it than before.

“I’m a ghost, dude. I don’t do corporeal for long.” Misha seemed to be saying. “Hurry.”

“What?” Jared raised his head. Jensen’s eyes were blindly staring ahead. Jared had to look away.

Misha was fading around the edges. Jared could see the other side of the room through him a little more sharply too. “You need to find some water.”

Jared stared at him blankly.

“A pool. Isn’t there fountains or something nearby?” Misha was over at the window now. Instead of pushing the drapes apart, he stepped through them. He was back before Jared could even turn back to Jensen. “One out there. Come on.”

Jared didn’t move. Misha looked at him impatiently. Misha stepped from foot to food, continuing to fade.

“You’ve got to throw the weapon into the pool. You do that rather than keeping it and she’ll grant you a boon. A favour.” Misha came to drag at his shirt ineffectually again. “She can bring him back.”

Jared looked up. “Really.”

Misha hesitated for a minute too long. Jared started to look back at Jensen again. He was oddly reluctant to throw the gun away. It fit his hand perfectly. He’d never had a more well balanced weapon.

“Do you love him?” Misha asked.

“I barely know him,” Jared said, honestly. “I could do. Could whoever you are referring to bring back the people that Jeeves there sacrificed too?”

“The lady?” Misha was fading more quickly now. “Only one way to find out.” Misha vanished.

 

Jared waited another moment before making his mind up. He was rather unsteady when he got to his feet but used the wall to support him as he walked along the hallway, gun dangling from his hand. The elevator still stood open. Jared got in and punched the button for the lobby.

The smell of blood was overwhelming as the elevator took its time going down. Jared controlled his stomach until the doors opened on the lobby. There were flies buzzing around the gaping wound in the throat of the security guard. Then Jared had to lean over and let the contents of his stomach empty onto the polished marble floor. He was reduced to retching before the heaving stopped.

Outside, night had fallen fully. The streetlights still kept true darkness at bay. A police car screeched past, lights flaring and sirens going at full volume. Jared held his breath as it flew past then made his way out through the glass doors.

The fountain Misha must have seen was a tiny shallow pool with a rather desultory spray. Lights under the water made the most of it but Jared knew he wouldn’t have any problems wading in and retrieving the gun if nothing happened. Jared stood by the pool for a long moment. He almost turned away.

“It won’t do you any good to keep it, you know.” Aldis’ voice was distorted strangely. He had always spoken normally in Jared’s dreams. Jared looked up to see his mouth filled with way too many razor sharp teeth to be entirely comfortable. “It doesn’t like to be kept.”

“You say that like it has a personality.” Jared weighed the gun in his hand again. Then he raised his arm and tossed the gun towards the middle of the pool. An arm, clad in a silver sleeve shot out of the pool, caught it and retreated back towards the water, barely leaving ripples behind.

Jared’s nerves could take it no longer. He sat down quite heavily on the sidewalk. Aldis came to join him.

“It does have a name, you know. The last woman to use it liked an axe, so that’s what it turned into for her. The guy that trapped the demon in the box in the first place used a sling, for crying out loud.” Aldis ran his hand through the water. “I guess you’d call it Excalibur.”

Jared tried to come up with some kind of answer to that. Nope. Nothing. “Hmmm,” he finally said.

Aldis stood up, shaking the water off his hands. “So. She granted your wishes. Just so you know.”

“But I didn’t ask. She just did the swirly thing.” Jared mimed the hand waving in the air.

Aldis let out a dry chuckle. “Nah. She knows you. She knows your heart. That’s her thing.”

“Oh.” Jared still kept staring into the pool. “Right.”

Aldis walked off, his steps echoing loudly in the night time air. The sounds of sirens and shouts from people were still distant. Jared realised he should probably go see if his mom managed to save the kids in the concert hall. He should probably ask Aldis if he was going to be sticking around. He should find out more about the whole boon deal. And fucking Excalibur. He wasn’t sure if he entirely believed Aldis about that.

Instead Jared watched how the night breeze shifted the water of the fountain.

It was only when he felt a hand on his shoulder that he realised there were tears running down his face. He brushed them away as he looked up.

“I guess we saved the world then?” Jensen asked. His hand was warm against Jared’s shoulder. He didn’t seem like a ghost. Jared stood up and wrapped his arms around him. He didn’t feel like a ghost. Jensen decided to take control then. He didn’t kiss like a ghost.

And yech. Both of them kinda had puke breath.

It was probably that last thing that convinced Jared that Jensen had rejoined the land of the living. “Guess we did. Do you think we’ll get medals?”

“I can see it in your mind now. Like the end of Star Wars? Does that make me Han? I think you’re Chewie. You’re tall enough.” Jensen chattered on nervously. Jared couldn’t reply. He just squeezed him closer. Jensen responded in kind. “Think it went badly there for a little while.”

“Yeah,” Jared replied. He took a deep breath. “So I’m thinking that after I brush my teeth a million times, I’d like to suck your dick.”

Jensen swallowed. “Yeah? Well after I’ve brushed my teeth a million times, I think I’ll let you.”

 

There were still jobs to do, of course. They sat on the edge of the fountain while Jared called his mom. She let him know that there had been a couple of hurt kids but it looked like everyone had survived despite the fact it had been touch and go for a while. The people in the office building had stumbled out confused, holding up hands covered in blood despite the lack of wounds. Jensen wanted to reassure them but quickly realised there was nothing he could say that would make sense. Jared was slightly more worried by the figure he saw swooping off the roof. It looked like a person until it opened its arms wide to reveal bat-like wings. A few other figures snuck off into the shadows.

As the chaos settled down, Jared realised how little sleep he’d had lately. He leaned heavier and heavier against Jensen who had slipped an arm around him. Finally his mom pulled up in her town car. Her chauffeur got out to open the door and Jensen kept Jared tight against him as he helped him into the car. Jared fell asleep when he felt Jensen settle into the seat next to him.

 

The sunshine on his face was coming from the wrong direction. Jared flailed his arms out, only to be greeted by a muted yell of protest. He carefully opened his eyes, flinching at the bright light. There were drapes across the window but they were yellow and flimsy and not really doing much to keep the morning out.

Jared rolled over hoping that the muffled yell had been from Jensen. He was pretty grateful to see that it was.

Jensen wasn’t looking angry. He was lying on top of the covers, dressed in clean jeans and a t-shirt Jared recognised as one of his dad’s, reading a book. Harley was curled up between his legs. Jared smiled and Jensen returned it. Jared hadn’t noticed before how the corners of Jensen’s eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“Morning,” Jared said.

“Try afternoon. You slept right through.” Jensen sounded more amused than anything. He leaned over and dropped a soft kiss on Jared’s forehead. “I only beat you by a couple of hours though. Dying takes a bit out of you.”

“And saving the world. Don’t forget that.” Jared stretched out. “This bed is smaller than my one at home.”

“I was kinda disappointed not to be able to snoop in your old bedroom. But your mom told me that you never really lived here.” Jensen scratched his fingers through the top of Harley’s head. The dog whuffled in satisfaction.

“They moved here after I left for Basic.” Jared gave up on trying to ease his back and pulled himself so he was more upright. He was still wearing the t-shirt he’d been wearing yesterday but some kind soul had taken off his jeans. He hoped it had been Jensen but realised it had probably been his mom. “There’s probably boxes in the attic of my stuff.”

“That sounds like hard work.” Jensen recoiled from him slightly. “Plus, you’ve got more important things to do.”

“Like?” Jared had his suspicions, especially as Jensen put on a mock innocent look.

“Shower. And brush your teeth a million times.” His voice took on a huskier tone when he said the last part.

Jared – thankfully – remembered his promise of the night before. He leaned forward to cover Harley’s ears. “Not going to do that in my parents’ house. Especially since…” Jared stopped.

“Since what?” Jensen asked. He smelled clean and of the cigar he’d obviously smoked before coming back to lie beside Jared. Jared was pretty sure that this was his new favourite smell in the entire world.

“I had this dream. Which Misha and Aldis interrupted by chaining a suitcase to my arm. And you were… Reciprocating.” Jared could feel himself blush.

Jensen’s eyes darkened as the meaning of Jared’s words sunk in. “I guess I’m going to do more than just reciprocate. And no one better be planning to interrupt me.” He leaned over to press a firmer kiss to Jared’s lips. “But you still have morning breath from hell. Get going.”

Jared rolled himself out of bed and headed to the en suite. “You could always join me in the shower. Again.”

Jensen just flung a towel at him from the nightstand. “Not in front of Harley. He understands more than you think.”

 

There were endless delays: first a meal with his mom and dad, which Jared was happy to eat, although he could have done without the lingering chat over coffee; then back to Jensen’s hotel where he packed his bags and checked out early, causing all sorts of issues. They had to pick up Jared’s truck from where he’d parked it the night before and then, finally, they arrived at Jared’s apartment.

The apartment might have been a bit of a state. They hadn’t exactly tidied up as they’d gone along. Instead there were books and papers on pretty much every surface. Jared’s sheets were pretty gross too.

“Maybe we should have stayed at your hotel?” Jared asked, looking around at the chaos. Instead, Jensen tackled him and locked his lips onto Jared’s. Jared got with the programme, wrapping his arms around Jensen eagerly and opening his mouth wide to let Jensen’s tongue fit in.

“The sheets are just going to need changing after we’re done, anyway.” Jensen said when he came back up for breath. He leaned back to pull off his shirt. Then he tugged impatiently at Jared’s. “I think I’m due saving the world sex.”

“Yeah,” Jared said vaguely as Jensen kissed and mouthed his way along his collarbone. “Yeah.”

 

It was later when Jared had carried out his promise to Jensen and been quite spectacularly rewarded in kind (Jensen apparently had no gag reflex. Who knew?) and they’d recovered enough for round two to begin that Jared became aware of another presence in the room. He took his eyes off Jensen, who was biting a hickey into Jared’s inner thigh and quite deliberately slicking up his fingers with lube, to look around the room suspiciously.

There was a flicker in the corner of the room and Misha’s bright blue eyes seemed to appear along with his sleepy grin before it vanished. Then Jared had a distinct impression that there was a clink of glasses and a flash of too many teeth. He was ready to order them to go away when Jensen slid the tip of the finger that had been circling around Jared’s hole in. That pushed all the air from Jared’s lungs for a moment. He writhed around Jensen’s finger as it wriggled deeper, moaning in pleasure.

Jensen moved up to kiss his throat and then his lips before sliding another finger in and scissoring it. Jared widened his legs as far as they’d go.

Jensen paused to fit the condom snugly over his cock and lubed himself up, eyes fixed on Jared the whole time. Jared was impressed. He guessed he’d never had enough sex to get the knack of getting a condom on without looking. It was something he hoped to definitely change.

“Hey,” he said, as Jensen lined himself up carefully.

Jensen stopped. He looked worried for a moment before meeting Jared’s eyes. “Yeah?” His voice was shaky.

“This is maybe the wrong time to talk about this, but are you going on any digs soon?” Jared realised that having this conversation right at this point probably won him the prize as the world’s worst in bed.

Jensen looked down at his cock. “Not planning on it.” Jensen leaned forward to kiss him. “I was planning to see how many ways I could fuck my boyfriend and learn how it felt for him to do the same to me.”

“Boyfriend?” Jared returned the kiss.

“Yup,” Jensen said, pressing forward to let the head of his cock slip into Jared. Jared gasped loudly. “Sorry. I’ll…”

Jared felt Jensen start to pull back. “No. I just… I want you to know that that’s what I want. You. As my boyfriend. Not just doing what we’re doing until you have to leave town.” Jared grabbed at Jensen’s hips and tugged them towards him. He felt Jensen’s cock push further into him and he pressed down to force it further.

It was Jensen’s turn to groan. “Fuck, Jared.” He came to a stop, fully sheathed inside. “If you want me, a washed up archaeologist, you can have me.”

“You can keep me in style from the proceeds of your thieving. Just-“ Jared moved his hips. The burn had faded to the pleasant ache he remembered. “Move,” he ordered.

Jensen obeyed, attention now focused on making sure he hit Jared’s prostate as often as he could. Jared knew he wasn’t going to last long, not with the way Jensen was kissing him and jacking him off. He felt the familiar tingle in the base of his spine as Jensen lost control over the smooth pace he’d been setting and started thrusting quicker and more frenzied. Jared thrust up one more time into Jared’s hand and came hard. Jensen followed him moments later.

Jensen refused to pull out until he’d finished kissing Jared thoroughly. Then they collapsed side by side on Jared’s enormous bed, sheets wrecked completely.

“I meant it,” Jensen said, eventually. “I might be falling in love with you.”

Jared took a long time to process that. “Yeah? I brought you back from the dead because I was hoping you might.”

Jensen laughed, surprised. He stopped when Jared didn’t join in. “You’re not joking.”

“I threw away Excalibur for you,” Jared said, turning onto his side to watch Jensen’s reaction.

“Bullshit.” Jensen’s eyes widened at Jared’s slow head shake. “You threw away the one artefact that would prove that Arthur really existed.”

Jared couldn’t keep up the serious façade any longer. He leaned over and pulled Jensen into a kiss. “Yeah, but it was a really nice gun at the time.” He kissed Jensen again, just because he could. And then again. There was something nice about knowing that someone was falling in love with you, no matter who else was lurking out there.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/j2fightscrime/profile)[**j2fightscrime**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/j2fightscrime/) where you were given a prompt from a random generator and had to write it. My prompt was: Jared's a gun-slinging playboy sorcerer with a mysterious suitcase handcuffed to his arm. Jensen's a cigar-chomping kleptomaniac archaeologist who can talk to animals. That was the point I thought about dropping out. Then it wiggled its way into my brain and this is what I got. I managed most of the prompt, although some of it more subtly that others. I also had FUN writing this. So much fun. Too much fun. This crept over the 20000 mark when I wasn't looking. And it does get silly, but hopefully it works okay.
> 
> And music. I wrote this to Amy Sawers, who is a local Aberdonian unsigned artist. She's not what I usually listen to while writing, but really worked for this. And I think you should like her too, so [two songs on Mediafire](http://www.mediafire.com/?4qitoq35u6zj6kn).
> 
> Thanks to [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/nightporters/profile)[**nightporters**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/nightporters/) for sorting my idiotic tense errors. I'm going to stop wittering now.


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